Learning the Hard Way 2

by H. P. Caledon

  So he sat quietly and listened. Not far from himself he thought he could hear a hectic breathing. After almost fifteen minutes of sitting completely still, Keelan heard a faint ruckus before a trashcan moved a bit. He changed his eyes and saw the clear purple color surround the young figure. A burning need to protect her washed over him.

  There was no doubt in his mind—that was his daughter. She crept closer to where Keelan sat, eying the street. As she came closer, Keelan could see that she was dressed like a boy. The thought of how it was to go down entered his mind, because he was pretty sure she wouldn’t believe him or even give him the time to explain any of it, so he reached into his kit and pulled out a syringe. As she stepped up next to his hideout, he stepped out, covered her mouth, and injected her. She’d bitten his fingers before she collapsed unconsciously in his arms.

  “Now you’re safe,” Keelan said and lifted her into his arms. But first he had to get her past the two bounty hunters in the area before they figured out that Mike had given them bogus information. Keelan wrapped her in his jacket and carried her across the rooftops toward the spaceport.

  Mike was finishing the last preparations with the cryo-coffin when Keelan entered with the girl in his arms.

  “Looks like a boy,” Mike said and pushed a few more buttons.

  Keelan glared at him.

  Mike looked up and shrugged. “Just saying. Judging from the clothes and all.”

  “I thought your question would be whether or not I’m sure.”

  “Well, I can’t see it. Help me with this guy. You get to practice the procedure.”

  “Is a bit necessary?” Keelan asked, setting his unconscious daughter down on a crate just outside the holding bay.

  “Is it?” Mike looked at Norman, who shook his head and continued to brood. He looked a bit groggy, so Keelan figured Mike had given him pain relief. His arms were tied in front of him, and Keelan saw the bullet in a metal cup on a table with bloody napkins and tweezers.

  “Aha.” Keelan motioned for the guy to stand up and turn around. Keelan fixated him, and Mike went through the cryo settings. Norman Petterson was finally in cryo, and all they had to do was log him as caught.

  Keelan picked up his daughter and carried her to the common room, where he placed her on the sofa while Mike secured everything downstairs for takeoff.

  Gently, Keelan removed his daughter’s hood to be able to see her properly. She wasn’t hurt. And then reality hit him, hard. She was really there. He’d found her.

  “She has my ears,” Keelan said as Mike joined him.

  Mike laughed and perched on the edge of the table to look at the sleeping figure. “She looks more like Alice.”

  Keelan smiled. Her hair was the same dark blond color as Alice’s, but short and wispy, as if she’d cut it herself and not really cared about the outcome. Up close, she didn’t look like a prepubescent boy. Her cheekbones gave it away. Her chest didn’t give anything away, but Keelan didn’t think anything of it. Alice didn’t have much of a chest when they’d met in that broom closet.

  Mike reached out to lift her eyelid, and Keelan noticed she had Alice’s eye color.

  “How much did you give her?”

  “She’ll sleep until morning. Let me just strap her down so we can take off.”

  Mike nodded and waited, but Keelan had a hard time not looking at her.

  “Hey, we got her. Come on,” Mike said gently and put a hand on Keelan’s shoulder. Keelan smiled, lifted her up, and carried her to his room. He rigged her with the harness he’d used to secure Mike before he secured everything in the room for takeoff.

  On his way out the door, he turned to look at her again, shifting his eyes to see her colors. They were exactly like the guy on Verion four had said Keelan’s were. And the feeling was definitely not one to doubt. Just like he’d been told.

  Keelan took off from Motáll and plotted the route for Delta Zeich. Keelan and Mike then sat in companionable silence and watched the emptiness ahead.

  “They asked for the first of the two, right? And that was her, wasn’t it?” Mike asked.

  “Yeah. We should check the registers,” Keelan said and moved his seat around.

  “Check retina, first name, and only locally. If you don’t find anything there, then it was the other one.” Mike popped his legs up and looked at a map while Keelan began his search, punching in Misery and Motáll and found her right away.

  He slammed his hand on the edge of the console, making Mike jump.

  “What?”

  “You’d think I’m a god damn obstacle runner with the obstacles that keep falling in my way!”

  “With the risk of repeating myself... what?”

  Keelan left the chair and pointed at the screen. A nice image of Misery looking more like a girl and named Misery Fall was on the screen. Mike reached over to call out the data.

  “She’s yours, all right!”

  “Three thousand credits and Orlani?”

  “What? Three thousand is a good start,” Mike said. “It took you almost twenty-five years to be worth fifty. Seventy-five just before you died. And she even started before you.”

  Keelan growled at him.

  “Will you relax? We’ve got her, we can keep her safe, but... we are really going to need a lot of money to get Lewis to fiddle with any more new identities.”

  “And until then, she does not leave my side,” Keelan said. They stared at Misery’s bulletin on the lawmen’s network.

  “Are you going to call Alice?”

  Keelan nodded and looked at Mike, who smiled encouragingly at him and left the cockpit. Keelan sat back down and looked at the image of his daughter for a few more seconds before he checked the local time on Verion four. Alice would be at work, but the call wasn’t a social call, so he’d interrupt. He needed to talk to her just so he could make a plan. Even if it was just a rough sketch of one.

  Billy answered the call and smiled, but his smile fell away as soon as he saw Keelan’s expression. Keelan tried to look more upbeat, but it was too late.

  “I’ll get her,” Billy said and left.

  Alice looked nervous as she sat, but Keelan managed a tired smile. Looking at her, it was obvious from whom Misery had received most of her looks.

  “Has something happened?”

  “Yeah, I found her. She’s onboard, and we’re in route.”

  Alice gaped, and a myriad of feelings crossed her face. “Are you taking her home?”

  “There’s a fence.”

  Alice’s body language collapsed. “What kind? One we can overcome?”

  “Yeah, with time. But it means I’ll have to keep her safe. She really is my daughter. She’s wanted for murder. Has a bounty on her head and everything.”

  “What? Why, how...”

  “I don’t know yet. She’s masquerading as a teenage boy. But I have a picture. I’m afraid of sending it to you, but I printed it.” Keelan held it up for Alice to see. Her expressions changed, and something new blossomed in her eyes. A mother’s love? Keelan wanted to believe that.

  “What’s her name?”

  “Rosita! It’s our right to name her. But the Churchburrows named her Misery Fall.”

  Alice looked furious at that. “Do what you can for her. Promise me.”

  “I promise. But it keeps me away from you for a while—”

  “I don’t care! Just protect her. And call me once in a while so I can follow her, too.” Her voice trembled and her eyes grew blank. Keelan nodded and tried to smile. Alice returned the smile in earnest and ended the call.

  Keelan sat back and sighed, wondering how he was going to explain everything to Misery once she woke up.

  About the Author

  Thinking there was only so much room for future worlds and chatty characters inside a person’s skull, HP Caledon decided to write some of it down to get some peace and quiet and be able to live in the present moment. Fat good that did—it just made room for more chatty characters! So, with coffee
always available and the occasional glass of red wine at the ready, he has come to enjoy the run of characters and never-ending creativeness that this brought with it.

  When not writing, he reads, trains CrossFit, studies all aspects of life and people, and enjoys more coffee.

  HP Caledon is in his late thirties, Danish, and a blacksmith by trade.